The Beast
by Bakura'sMorbidKitten
Summary: A retelling of Beauty and the Beast. The epic love tale full of tragedy and romance, renewed with Ryou and Bakura as the charming french belle and the haunting beast! Two unlikely characters caught in the prejudices of the world around them. RyouxBakura
1. Introduction

I do not own Yugioh or any of it's associated characters, nor do I own Beauty and the Beast in any way. I make no profit from this story.

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Introduction

Once upon a time, on a cold winter's night, an old beggar woman stumbles up to a prince's castle. She desperately begs the prince for shelter, and offers a single red rose in return. Being selfish and heartless, the prince turns the old woman away simply because she is ugly.

She warns him gravely that true beauty is found within the heart, and not in one's appearance. The prince refuses her dire request once more, ignoring her words, and she reveals herself to be a powerfull enchantress. As punishment for his cruelty and heartlessness, she turns the handsome prince into an ugly beast, and unleashes a terrible spell on the castle and it's inhabitants. The servants turned into ordinary household items, while the castle itself wass turned into a dark, forbidding place. Even the angel statues became raging gargoyles carved from stone.

She tells the beast that the only way to break the spell is to learn to love another, and to receive that love, before the last petal of the enchanted rose falls. The delicate flower will slowly wither untill his twenty-first birthday, and if he does not find love by the fall of the last petal, he will remain the Beast...

Forever.

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Please go to the next chapter! I took alot of time on that one, unlike the introduction. The quality of the introduction is not a reflection of that of the rest of the story. 

Please review!


	2. The Grand Escape

Enjoy the second chapter!

I do not own Yugioh or Beauty and the Beast, or any of the characters associated with them, nor do I make any profit from the story.

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The streets were buisy today, and would be for the rest of the month; something well known thoughout the town. It was the last few weeks before winter, and the country folk living in the surrounding areas were traveling into town to stock up. It's regular inhabitants were also making generous apperances, gathering necessities for a cozy winter vacation in the mountains nearby. This factor added to the usual customers, and created an unusually large afternoon commotion.

It was a normal occurence every year, and it happened around these pre-winter months that things in the little city began to sparkle. Cobblestone roads were dusted and lightly mopped, windows polished, new merchandise displayed. All the shops were radiating luxury and bright, colorful signs...to attract the eye of eager, hearty customers of course.

It seemed peaceful and quiant, but there was an undeniable stress in the shop families. Here upon their doorsteps was the last opportunity to earn money for the rest of the year. Hardly any money could be made during the winter; certainly not enough to live on. Competition was heating up as the temperatures dropped.

Ryou stood by his father's shop front, gazing at his work. It was a beautiful sign, hand painted unlike all the other wood-and-ink advertisements of the neighbors. It was a window mural depicting a plush reading room, red velvets and carpets strewn about, books flapping gently in the breeze from the open french doors. It was done entirely in shades ranging from white to red (Ryou couldn't afford many colors) and nothing more. Besides, he thought, the warm tones were very well suited for winter. The boy had definite raw talent, enough to create a career in the fine arts...but his father was poor, and there was no way they'd ever be able to afford the paints, canvases, or brushes.

Moreover, he was needed desperately in the shop. Even if the option was open to him, the dedicated son wouldn't leave his father to persue an illustrious life. His father was aging quickly, and no one else would help him run the delapidated book shop. Ryou's old man was concidered a fanatic to the rest of the town and most didn't approve of him living there. Professor Ivory had an unatural fixation with the human anatomy, at one time having been a very proficient surgeon. After one operation gone terrribly wrong, however, the old man lost his reputation and, slowly, his savings as well.

Surprisingly, Ryou did not carry the same social stigma as his father, again due to the nature of the accident. Even through this deep-rooted pity for the boy, no one wanted to help the family financially. They lived off the money thier odds-and-ends shop generated.

Allowing the pleasure of accomplishment to sweep over him briefly, Ryou smiled at the window, and began packing up his supplies. Gathering the two (and only) painbrushes, tubes of paint, color mixing plate and bucket of soapy water he headed inside with the load in his arms.

Ryou navigated his way through the shelves to the back of the shop and into the storage room hidden by curtains. Setting the items down, he walked over to the rusty sink and poured out the soapy liquid, careful not to splash it up onto the counter. Placing the little bucket back on the narrow, dusty shelf, Ryou hastily exited the small enclosure. The dusty air of the shop's storage room was harsh on his lungs, and already being of a weak constitution, it wasn't wise to agrivate the situation.

Three things dawned on him at this moment. First, it was unnaturally quiet. After going from the clatter of humanity outside to this silence...where was father? He was always somewhere near, in his study or bedroom, but not today. He must still be here, though, because Ryou didn't see him leave while he was painting...but where?

"Hmmm..." Ryou pondered aloud, eyes scanning for signs of movement. He wasn't too worried. After all, Maurice was a grown man.

Second, a glow was cast by sunlight filtering through the red window paint, bathing the small shop in rich, crimson splendor. This was truly a marvel to Ryou, and he stood slack jawed in awe. It seemed as though the sun were setting; every surface was awake with a sparkling luster. Gentle shadows of red, mohagony and cream slanted along the walls, while rose red hues flashed across the floor, glowing with richness. Ryou beamed at this little paradise he had created; father would be pleased. The customers would very pleased.

Third, Seto Kaiba could be seen on the other side of the glorious window, rounding the town square fountain in the distance and strutting up the street. Ryou was reluctant to accept this as reality at first, and an audible groan could be heard from the boy...untill, of course, the meaning of the sight hit home. Mildly panicking, Ryou quickly paced across the shop and threw the 'Closed' sign onto a hook in the glass pane, and made for the back of the shop.

_Darn Kaiba_, he thought, _ruining that small bit of peace..._Heading once more into the storage room, he pulled the curtains shut and raced up the short flight of stairs behind the shelves. Turning the corner, he entered the hall which made up most of he and his father's living space. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a closet. At the end of the hall was another set of stairs, going down this time, connecting to another shop. The buildings were oddly built, his father's on stilts due to a flood many years back, as it was one of the oldest buildings in the area. The library next door was much newer, and as a result was built lower than this one. A door connected the two, and Ryou often traveled there this way. The older woman who owned the library didn't mind at all; in fact she said she rather enjoyed the suprise.

Opening the door he made a slight jump onto the floor (as there were no stairs there) below, and silently applauded himself for the escape.

No one was in the library, which wasn't surprising at all to Ryou. People these days weren't interested in books...Jogging up to the window, he leaned close to the glass and examined the building he had just left. Huffing in annoyance on his doorstep was none other than Kaiba. Grinning, he watched the man glower at the 'Closed' sign and spin on his heel, not caring to notice Ryou's artwork.

Comfortable with his escape, Ryou crept back into the shadows (in case Kaiba walked by) and helped himself to one of the large, dusty volumes crowding Mrs. Whittle's book shelves. Selecting an old favorite, the teen snuggled down into a plush armchair and set to reading.

Kaiba strut up the street, puffing out his chest and struggling to maintain a bored, apathetic expression. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a flock of tittering girls whip their heads his direction, chattering like mad. A plan formulating in his self-absorbed head, he made his way through the afternoon traffic and gave pause at the fountain. Leaning at it's edge, he struck a majestic pose, succesfully catching the eyes of the girls whom he'd just passed. Reaching back into his pocket, Kaiba clutched his coin purse and made a dramatic show of counting the shining gold.

Usually this game would go on for some time, him flirting with the beautiful rich girls in town, but today he had other plans. It was time to find Ryou. The women did nothing but boost his already inflated ego. His real attraction was fixated on Ryou, the one little beauty which did not crave his attention.

Kaiba knew that deep down inside, Ryou wanted him with a burning passion, it was just going to take some effort on his part to bring it out.

Rising to his feet once more, he heard the volume of chatter from the women increase, all of them hoping he was going to head in their direction. Turning on his heel, the arrogant man pretended to visually sift through the shops, selecting one to ravish with his bottomless pit of a coin purse. Of course, he had planned his destination long before.

Quickly crossing the street, he entered the jewelry shop and picked up a package that had been waiting for him. The women keenly observed when he exited that it was very small, square in shape, and pre-wrapped. Excitement rising, they jumped to their fancy heels and folloewd him as he ronded the fountain once more and headed up the street.

Whispers were flying. Was he going to propose? Who was the lucky girl? Was he going to ask permission of the father? They followed him as far as they dared, and stopped when they noticeed him slowing. He had halted right in front of that old man's place, the one who killed his wife but was never convicted. It was an accident, he'd insisted, it was eighther the child or the mother, and he tried to save both. What could Kaiba be doing there? Only that odd boy and his deranged father lived there.

Whatever the case, Kaiba seemed very unhappy with something. At first his face heled a look of sharp suprise, but then anger quickly took it's place. He stood there for some time, examinng the window, trying to see through the beautiful mural clouding his view. Then, to the startled shock of the women, he began pounding in a most unbecoming fashion on the glass. Receiving no answer, he glared at it angrily.

He began pacing, muttering privately to himself. This display of emotion was most unusual, and caused quite a stir in his secret audience.

It was at this time that Ryou peeked from his hiding place for a mere second, and perhaps that small action triggered something within Kaiba's brain, internal radars going off. With renewed enthusiasm, the girls watched Kaiba dash up to the door of the library and let himself in.

Ryou was filled with glee at his smooth get-away. He hated Kaiba, with a passion. The man reeked of self-righteousness and suffocating arrogance. He was rude to all the people Ryou loved: the baker, the shoemaker, and the shepheards...not to mention evey other weakling he ran across. These things set aside, Ryou had another reason to despise the walking vanity mirror. Kaiba was terrible to father.

A few weeks back, he had rallied the townsmen to run the Professor out of town, telling Ryou that everything would be okay, and that the boy could come live with him.

_An offer to die for_, thought Ryou.

Grimacing, he continued flipping through the yellowed pages, searching out his favorite love scene. The one where the beautiful princess falls in love with the dying leapor...

Hearing a sweet, musical jingle, Ryou looked up with intrest. It was rare that the little bell adorning the shop door was frequented. Rising smoothly to his feet, Ryou made his way through the shelves and random stacks of books and into the open reading area at the front of the library.

At the time being, Seto's back was turned, but Ryoui could not take this opportunity to run...he stood gaping, shocked.

_How did he?..._

Whirling about once more, determined to spot Ryou out, Seto was pleased when his prey was hovering only a few feet away.

"Ah, Ryou! There you are," he walked over, "I've been looking everywhere." Ryou had backed up against a bookshelf, sealing himself into a corner between Kaiba, wall, and shelf. Leaning in close, Kaiba put one hand on the shelf and the other on his hip, preventing escape.

"Heheh, you know how it is, Seto; needed a little break from the shop...thought I'd do some reading..." Smiling nervously Ryou brought his small, girlish hands up to his chest, wringing them lightly; unknowingly trying to put as much between thier bodies as possible.

"Where's that crackpot old man? Why can't he run his own shop?" Seto huffed, voice taking on a scathing tone.

"Don't talk about my father that way, Mr. Kaiba!" Ryou hissed, causing the taller male to backstep. Taking advantage of this, Ryou slipped through the small gap that was created, and continued while walking away: "He's an older man, he can't care for himself like he used to. You know that; he needs all the help he can get." Ryou paused, controlling the tone of his voice. "Thanks to you, we don't get many customers anymore."

At this, Kaiba's eyes widened a notch more, and he put up his hands in defense. "Now, now, Ryou. You know that isn't true! I'd never try to harm your father's reputation in any way." The younger teen cringed at the innocent pout that was added for effect.

Glaring heatedly, Ryou walked back to the plush armchair, book still propped upon the cushion, and moved to sit down once more. "I never said a word about his reputation, Kaiba."

Ignoring the latter comment, Kaiba hurried over and pulled the boy flush against his chest, breathing heavily into his ear. "Does it matter? You're better off with me, darling. I could provide every luxury you'd ever wan-"

"Let me go!" Ryou yelped, to no effect.

"You'd never be unhappy, Ryou! Imagine your dreams fulfilled, a room just for painting-"

"Kaiba, _get off me!_" He jerked his wrists back angrily, becoming very agrivated with his would-be captor.

Ryou's saving grace came scurrying into the room, severe eyes blazing at Kaiba. Her small reading spectacles were perched precariously on the end of the old woman's large nose, hooking above pale, pursed lips.

"What's going on in here?" She paused, observing the scene,"That is no behavior for a library, you let that boy go right now!" Her small, quavering voice eeked out, seeming more unnecesarily high pitched than threatening.

Kaiba released him. Sighing, Ryou quickly moved away from the agrivating man. "It's alright, Mrs. Whittle, he's not hurting anybody. He'll be leaving now."

"Yes, we will." Kaiba smiled at the smaller boy, snatching the old book unceremoniously by it's back cover from the chair. "By the way, how much for this book?"

Mrs. Whittle raised her near-gone eyebrows at this and glanced from book to man. "W-well, sir, we don't really sell books." She smiled, and began talking as though to a child. "You see, this is a _library_. Libraries don't _sell_ books, we _lend_ them." Reching for the ancient volume she lovingly righted it and smoothed it's pages, closed the cover and slid it back under her arm.

Scoffing, Kaiba reached for his coin purse the second time that day and began shaking out a generous ammount. "Oh, come now, old woman, I'm sure I can cover it."

Letting the age comment slide, the librarian's eyes fixated on the glittering gold pieces, quickly reconcidering the offer.

Moment's later, the two males stood outside Professor Ivory's shop, Ryou digging keys from his plain brown painter's smock. Angrily jamming the keys into the lock, Ryou pushed the door open, attempting to close it on Kaiba. The other was too swift, however, and slipped in.

"What do you want, Kaiba? What's with the book...buying...thing?" Flustered, Ryou began angrily pacing the shop, trying to look buisy.

"What do I want?" Kaiba repeated, "I want what every man wants...To end the day with a home cooked meal, have a nice, clean house." The awful man sauntered back behind the front desk, sitting down into the wooden chair and propping his mud caked boots on the counter. "Every night, have my little wife massage my feet and warm my bed...that's what I want, Ryou." As an after thought, he added: "Oh, and the books for you."

Ryou blanched at the mention of wives and bed warming. "Thats...nice, Seto...but I'm very buisy, an I'd simply _love _it if you'd let me get to work. You know what they say, heheh...Idle hands are the Devil's playground..."

Kaiba frowned. "You don't understand, do you?" Ryou looked up, wide eyed and nervous. "I want _you_, Ryou."

Said boy stood still, speechless for a moment, then opening and closing his mouth noislessly.

There was a pause. "Surprising, isn't it? I know, I know. I am quite a catch," Seto mused thoughtfully. He frowned, hoping the boy would speak; the expression on his face was quite unreadable. Taking this as a good sign, Kaiba got to his feet and came before the boy. Ryou backed away, revulsion building under his skin.

_Kaiba? Seto Kaiba wants to marry _me_! Dear lord...kill me now..._

Continuing to retreat, Ryou paced his way backwards to the entrance, not really paying attention to his direction. Kaiba followed him every step, quickly closing the distance between them, untill they were only inches apart. Ryou knew he could go no further when his back bumped the doorknob. Kaiba leered over him, again resting one hand on the glass door, and the other on his hip, lightly crossing his ankles. A feeling of dejavu swept over the boy.

"I want you, Ryou. You will belong to me..." Kaiba was closing the distance, lips parting, so close...

Ryou's mind screamed at him, there must be something! Anything!...His eyes snapped open.

_The doorknob!_

His brain jumped back in first gear. Hands scrambling frantically behind his back, Ryou sought out the evasive little copper knob, very aware of Kaiba's fast approaching lips. What in reality were seconds seemed like hours to the boy as he groped. Heart nearly stopping at the feel of cold metal in his hands, he gave the object a final, savage twist...

When he thought about the event later that day in the safe confines of his room, Ryou would conclude that Kaiba had really done all the work for him. Had he not been leaning on the door so heavily, and leaning foreward so steeply, perhaps Kaiba could have saved his ballance at the last moment. However, this was not to be.

As Ryou turned the knob, the door flew open under the combined weight of both bodies pressed firmly against it. Due to the death grip the youth maintaned on the doorknob, he was saved an embarassing splat onto the cobblestones outside. Kaiba, on the other hand, was not. Bodily thrown from the shop, he landed face first onto the neatly paved street outside, frozen with shock.

Processing what had just happened a little too slow, Kaiba whirled around in a fit of astonished anger to see only the shop door slammed, locked, and the shades drawn. Shaking from myriad undescribable emotions, Kaiba lurched to his feet and stood dumbly for a moment. His mind stuttered unhelpfuly.

A distant shout from Mokuba brought him to, finally, and he walked away to meet his 'partner in crime' at the nearest pub, destined for a night of complaining and faked injury from the fall. Seto Kaiba was not one to take rejection well.

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Please Review if you want me to continue! 


	3. The True Begining

TheGodFish: hahaha, Kaiba seemed to be the perfect character for the 'Gaston' role! All that pompous arrogance! Thank you for the review! Sometimes it is a while before I can update, thought I am dedicated to my fictions. I'll do my best, thought.

Fallon Dream: OMG you are the sweetest thing! blush and pins gold stars to shirt Thank you SO much! I try very hard, I'm glad you like it. Yeah, the suspense of what is coming next is killing me! But you will have to wait to find out! Muahahaha! or, you could go watch beauty and the beast... Shuddup other self...

Lorna Shadows: Hahaha, the 'floor splat da la Kaiba' was my fave scene to write! XD

Nekosune: OOH, How about those yamyams! Pocky! Yay! I'm glad you like it!

Black-Dranzer 1119: Thanks!

Gantaeno: I know, I just had to do a fairy tale theme, I've only ever read one good one, and the author didn't finish...sniff

Rosalie: The hardest part of writing a fic like this is finding the characters to match the parts. I refuse to have origional characters fill in space, so finding spots for the servants of the castle was really hard for me to do:P Thanks so much, I was worried the Kaiba thing wouldn't fit but everyone loves it! And, you know, now that I think about it, I've never read a ryou-as-a-girl fic that I've liked...I totally agree! Please enjoy!

MyNameIsNotBakura: (Purrrr-I love u 2) OOH! FREAK! WHO ARE U! STALKER! hehe, glad you like it hunnie-bunnie.

On Wit Da Fic! (as Joey would say...)

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Sunlight beamed brightly through the singular window placed high on the right wall, just next to his bed. Ryou's eyes twitched slightly behind his delicate lids, reacting to the cold yellow beams of winter sunlight. They seemed stark and harsh, as if made from some sort of invisible metal, sent from the sun to torture him...The rods of light bored into Ryou's face, crawling beneath his skin and urging him awake.

Shifting with a tired little groan, Ryou sloppily covered his head with a pillow, whining something about too early. In the distance he could hear birds singing, lilting in their beautiful, unique way...

_...Birds? But the birds don't sing untill noon..._

With a startled gasp, Ryou threw the pellow off and lurched upwards, gazing wild eyed at the dizzyingly bright window.

"Ohhh, no...don't tell me..." Jumping out of bed, he snatched the first articles to wear that his hands touched. A pair of wrinkled under-leggings, a soft brown homespun tunic, and a silly, flower-patterned kerchiff. Gathering his white nest of hair into a tangled knot he hastily tied the kerchiff around it, taking only the time necessary to make sure it wouldn't fall of. Leaving the waistband of the leggings loose, the teen threw the shirt on-

_Is it backwards? _he shrugged and decided it didn't matter

-and flew down the stairwell.

This was rare. Ryou almost always woke up before sunrise, he had been doing it every day for years. He had to. There was so much work that needed to be done before the customers arrived! All of the cleaning, cooking, organizing, stocking and displaying had to be completed at least in the hour of sunrise, preferably the hour before, but never after.

Chewing at his lower lip, Ryou rounded the sharp corner separating the storage room from their hall, and moved to snatch up his regular cleaning utensils from their usual spot on the front shelf. Ryou put out his hand without looking as the other tugged on the slipping pants, knowing from routine that the little pail and all it's neatly tucked contents would be there. His hand smacked the bare wood with a small _'fwap'_, making him start and look up.

He uttered a soft "Huh?" of confusion, staring at the spot as though it had sprouted arms and begun cleaning itself. The pail was gone. He bent immpediately to his knees, thinking maybe father knocked it off the shelf, an was lying on the ground...but he would have heard the noise of it falling even in his sleep, and he definitely would have seen it on the ground when he came in...

Nevertheless, he bent down and continued searching the floor. After making the rounds, Ryou uttered a little humph of frustration and hopped to his feet, deciding this was taking way too much time. Going to the rusty sink in the corner, he crouched down and opened the cubbord underneath. Finding an old bottle of some half-evaporated cleaner and a few reasonably discarded moldy rags, he chose the only other option.

He glared at the oddly colored moldy rag with anger. It was nearly one o'clock!

"Arg, It's so late, the shop isn't even open yet and traffic is already picking up..." He could distinctly hear a group of carts clatter by, accompanied by the rare click-clack of a noble-woman on foot. Pouting over his shoulder at the curtained door, Ryou brushed off his dusty leggings and stood up.

_I'm opening the shop, cleaned or not._

With a frown he brushed away the curtains and gave pause for the second time at the sight that greeted him. Beautiful, ruby red light hazed throughout the room, so beautiful, in fact, it seemed out of place.

His frown lightened a bit, hovering now only at the corners of his peach lips. Reaching for the 'Closed' sign, Ryou's hand stopped abruptly of it's own accord. Blinking, Ryou wondered dumbly at himself untill his subconcious reminded him...

_Kaiba._

Licking his lips nervously, Ryou pulled back and wrung his feminine hands, unsure of what to do. Yes, he should flip the sign over, yes, it was his responsibility, yes, he was losing money, yes yes yes yes; but...

_But maybe I should clean after all, you know, in case...in case it gets really dirty...Yes, that's it, I'm not afraid of you at all. So if you're out there, Kaiba, waiting for the shop to open, thinking I'm not opening it because of you, then you're wrong, and you can go away..._

Swallowing, Ryou turned around and glanced about. Where was that pail, anyway!

* * *

Maurice hooted with glee at his newest creation: a steam engine. A _small _steam engine. Exitement shined in the old man's eyes as he apraised the whistling, whirring machinery. He would never be poor again, not after this was introduced to the market! No, he and Ryou would never have to go without, and the boy could finish his teen years with a real, professional teacher. The lump of metal in front of him was Ryou's ticket to a better life.

As the cogs spinned and bouts of hot, white steam puffed into the air tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He smiled, a feeling of releif begining to lighten the age-old load on his shoulders.

He stood in the middle of a large shed, quite away from the shop, in a small glade just outside of town. Their buisness was on the farthest wing from the center of town, which overlooked this little field, so it wasn't difficult for him to get here despite his old age.

When the cobblestone streets of civilization ended small dirt paths took their place, windining through the woods; few made it up into the mountains. One of the longer ones (the only one upkept by the town service team) meandered it's way into the neighboring trade city, which was where Maurice would be traveling later that day.

Every year, a regional fair was held, at which the countries most wealthy buisnessmen attended to keep up on the local competition. Someone important was gauranteed to see his display, hire him, and everything after that would be a dream come true.

Smiling at this thought, he made his way slowly to the door- having to step carefully through the mess -and looked outside. The old man whistled sharply and leaned farther from the shed's doorframe, searching for Phillipe, Ryou's horse. He was much too aged to need a horse unless it was an occasion such as this, in which case he'd just borrow Ryou's. It was expensive enough to keep one animal, let alone two.

It was an old horse, and a skiddish one at that, but Ryou loved it with all his little heart. Phillipe was undoubtedly their most valuble possesion but the child flatly refused to sell it, even when they were on the brink of starvation, and Maurice hadn't the heart himself to deny the boy. He'd never yet met someone who could resist that begging face Ryou had perfected to a fine art.

Whistling again, he cupped his hands around his mouth and gently called "Pilllliiiiipe, here boy, c'mere old buddy, time to go home." He heard a huffed snort somewhere nearby, but nothing else. "Pillipe, over here boy." He whistled once more. A whinney of annoyance met his ears, and with small mutters of his own he limped out of the door.

Hobbling slowly to the back of the shed, he spotted the big chestnut gelding. It chewed thoughtfully on a clump of grass, not bothering to lok at Maurice.

Said man huffed. "Pillipe, what's got you all riled up today? Oh, you get back here you old fool!"

As he hobbled over the the horse, it casually walked away, keeping the same distance between itself and man at all times. Maurice stopped...and Phillepe did, too. He threw up his hands in exasperation but laughed in spite of himself. "Oh, you ol' donkey, let's go home," at this the ears perked,"and see Ryou, huh? would you like that?"

Maurice grinned. The horse flopped his ears comically and wriggled his big, velvety lips, prancing over to his master's feet and rubbing his muzzle against the man's shirt.

They set out again sometime in the late afternoon, cart and man in tow. He sat on the back near his steam engine, watching it carefully as the animal lumbered along, the both of them looking foreward to seeing Ryou. The little rustic roads were uneven and caused the delicate cargo to bounch slightly, but the horse was remarkably able to steady the rattling old wooden cart.

It was getting late, ha'd have to set out right after dinner if he wanted to get to the fairgrounds in Rosewood. Ryou wouldn't like that much. He was always demanding that father stay in bed for a while longer every morning, and the caring child would most certainly object to his late eve travels.

Snapping the reins a little against the animal's neck, they sped up to a steady trot and very quickly the edge of town came into view.

Sparing a quick glance up as he inspired Phillipe into a gallop, he noticed that the sun already began to fall in a steady arc twards the west.

* * *

Ryou had become frantic as the sun set, waiting at the stove and aimlessly stirring a pot of stew.

_Father, where are you!_

Biting his flushed lower lip, Ryou stared anxiously out the small kitchen window which faced the southern woods. They were commonly called the Black Woods, mainly because of the gigantic mountain peaks rising at the far southern border. The forest was almost entirely covered in shadow, thus the name, and no travelers save the ones on the path from Rosewood ever entered there. It was rumored to be haunted, but Ryou didn't believe in such silly things. Of course, he had met witches, warlocks and a very...erm, 'lusty' gentleman which he suspected to be a vampire, but hauntings? Shaking his head no, Ryou went on to the carew of his stew, adding a handful of minced fennel. He didn't believe in hauntings.

Unconciously flickering his eyes up for a moment, he spotted an old wagon clattering along the dusty path leading into the fringe of town, pulled by an overlarge draft horse ridiculous for a cart.

Dropping the wooden ladel into the soup pot with a red, tomatoey splash of liquid and the clang of wood against metal, Ryou dashed to the back of the shop and threw open the small door leading outside. He ran the small distance to father's cart and Phillipe, watching the big animal speet up it's gait despite father's attempts to slow him.

Galloping almost right up to the boy, the big horse pawed at the air and neighed affectionaately. Ryou giggle and held out his arms, pulling the beast into a "hug".

"I wondered where you two went! I was so worried, as a last hope i checked the stables and sure enough, the cart and you were gone! Where did you go? You've been gone all day long!" Ryou smiled up at his father, arms outstretched to aid the man in dismounting.

"Well, we'll get to that soon enough, but I want to eat dinner quickly before I tell you. Have you made anything?"

"Oh, yes, I used the last of the tomatoes in a stew; you know how shabbily they keep during winter."

"Yes, yes, good boy. You always were the smart one!" Maurice ruffled the child's hair, smiling.

"Papa, I'm the _only_ one!" Laughing, the two went inside, Ryou pressing his father to take a longer supper, just as the man predicted.

* * *

"Ryou, I want to show you something before I go." Maurice stood up from their little three legged table, pushing in his whicker chair.

"Go? Go where, father, you're in no condition to be going anywhere, -"

"Child! Please, let me show you and then you will understand," he said as if keeping the greatest secret in the world. Mystified, the teen followed his father back out to the yard where the cart stood, a large burlap tarp covering it's rear contents.

Almost immediately Ryou wondered why he hadn't noticed the bundle before. It certainly was large enough.

"This is something I've been working on for the last few months, and recently I came to almost finishing it. The excitement of coming so close has drawn me away for a while, as I'm sure you've noticed," he added with a sort of half-guilty smile. Carrying on before the boy could reply, he unfastened the hooks holding the fabric down and pulled at a heavy, stiff corner.

As the tarp slid off, Ryou pressed the tips of his maidenly fingers to his mouth, supressing a gasp. It took his mind a moment to comprehend the large metalic item in front of him. "What...in the world is that?"

"A miniature steam engine." There was a long pause. "Well," he began uncertainly, "What do you think, Ryou?"

Ryou's eyes grew huge, and he looked up at the old man with an unreadable stare. Glancing back at the glittering thing, Ryou said finally, "It's beautiful, Papa!"

Maurice laughed heartily, putting a hand on the much younger boy's shoulders. "That's not all, son. It can be used to power all sorts of machinery, everything from little trains to ovens!"

Ryou gaped, and as the man told his son of his grand plans, they gathered the items needed for his trip into Rosewood. Surprisingly, the boy relented quickly, deciding not to fuss too much over his father, realizing how important the situation was. At the end of it all, Maurice sat proudly atop the wagon as before, smiling down at his son. They plodded out to the beutiful forest glade, embracing eachother in a farewell hug.

"You'd better hurry if you want to get to the fairgrounds tonight; look, over there to the mountains, is that a storm cloud?" Ryou's brow furrowed with worry.

"Yes, so it is...You're right, I should get going." He hugged his son one last time and gently guided Phillipe untill the horse faced the general direction of the city path, spurring his lightly in the sides.

Ryou watched his father ride away on the wagon, hands knotting in the small gray apron at his waist. There was a gnawing, doubtful feel at the back of his mind, and he felt himself clench his teeth against a call to stop and come back...With sad, brown eyes Ryou waited untill Maurice disssapeared behind the thick trunks of the trees before hurrying up the steps. Rain was alredy begining to sprinkle the cobblestones.

* * *

They trudged through the darkness, progress slowing the farther from the treeline they moved. Maurice had lost the lantern's flame a long time ago due to the rain, and traveled in heavy fog with the bright, fair moon as his only guiding light. Sadly, even that was occasionaly blocked by the leafless branches of the trees. Gulping and glancing around the old man tightened his grip on Phillipe's reins for comfort.

He cursed himself for not taking the right path a few miles back; he was sure this had been a shortcut! His eyes flickered from one twisted, black barked tree to the next, shivering despite his winter cloak. It was too silent. Never before had he ever heard of a silent forest; there were no birds, no little animals, not even squirrels...

_I've never seen trees like that before..._

"OOOH! Dear God!" the man cried out suddenly, eyes wide and scared. He'd heard a frightful 'whump' from up ahead and Phillipe had stopped moving, shaking his golden mane up into the air. "Ph-ph-phillipe? What was that? Where have you taken us?"

The horse snorted as if to say '_You're the one with the reins.'_

Noticing Phillipe's lack of reaction, the man decided it was safe, and peered ahead to see what they had run into. It was a sign.

"Finally! I was begining to think we were lost, old boy!" Ha patted the horse's flank as he dismounted, pulling with him a ratty map from the saddlebags. He looked at the ancient vellum with contempt in the shoddy moonlight, tring to read it. "Now, this can't be right!" Leaning over the sign, he attempted to read it, too, brushing gently at the chipping paint with his hands. His focus slipped time after time leaving him to study a blurred, muddy plank of wood. "Well! of all the worthless-"

A snap behind him caught his attention. He whirled, hands flying to find Phillipe's reins, pulling the horse close.

"W-who's there!" silence...and then another snap...

Phillipe went crazy. The huge horse reared up, tearing the reins fron the man's hand, powerful hooves flailing in the air. "Phillipe! Phillipe, no boy! Down! DOWN!" And suddenly the woods were alive with roars and much more than snapping branches. Something huge threw intself into Maurice and he went down, his world spinning in a flash of dull color and chaos. He could hear Phillipe's shrill cries of panic and absolute terror shot up his spine; he'd never heard a horse make _that_ sound before. He didn't know an animal could make a sound like that.

The horrible, four legged thing which had thrown him down dug it's snarling jaws into his side and Maurice bacame acutely aware of his own screams of terror. Deciding the big horse could take care of himself Maurice bolted, feeling the teeth of the animal tear free from his flesh. Rain splattered in his eyes, blinding his vision as he forced his body to keep going. Soon the cries of Phillipe died away and he herd only his own ragged breath and the breath of his vicious persuers, snapping at his heels.

Maurice ran from the hungry wolves as fast as his short old legs would carry him. It was a lost cause, these ani8mals were desperate and he no match for them in conditions sucha s these... He should just give up, hopefully he wouold die quickly...

_Ryou, I love you son..._

His feet stumbled and he flew foreward, propelled by his momentum. A harsh, metallic clang rent the air and his head slammed against a terribly cold bar, momentarily stunning him. Pausing in his flight from the creatures, the old man looked up. In front of him was an absolutely huge gate, reaching twenty to thirty feet high at least. It was made of a strange, blue-black metal that gleamed in the solitary moonlight, dark ivy patterns laced through the bars at the top. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

Jerked out of his reverie by whines and squeals he turned back around and saw the wolves slinking away into the woods, eyes rolling and tails between their legs. Noting this odd behavior Maurice took the opportunity to get away, shoving at the iron gates with all his might. To his surprise, they swung open silently, not even a slight tremble of the hinges could be heard.

Gaping at them as though they had come to life, Maurice walked onto the enormous path leading to...He looked forewards, eyes bulging at what what he saw.

* * *

Ryou lay shivering in bed, tossing restlessly. Tangles of moon white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, complicating the situation even more. In his mind's eye terrible things were happening.

He saw a monster...it was roaring, muzzle turned up and yawning wide among rows and rows of fangs, while the arms outstreched to the heavens bulged with muscle and untold power. Even in his sleep he could hear the sound of that terrible roar and swore in the depth of his mind that the ground shook...the boy moaned, trying to hide the vision from his closed eyes...the monster turned, slowly, and lowered it's blood-red eyes. Ryou opened his mouth to scream, but the desperate cry died in his throught. Those eyes, they were not the eyes of a monster. They were they eyes of a man...and they wept.

* * *

Ok, so that's really bad, but it got us to almost meeting the beast, ne? And then the real fun begins! Yay! Pweeees review! Makes me write faster!


	4. The Mistake Made

Black-Dranzer-1119: Good luck with your story, and thank you for the enthusiasm! I'm glad you like it!

Fallon Dream: Hahah, not rude at all! I think it is good that it is a little different, it should be, ne:) I'm glad you like it. Yes, one of my favorite parts of the movie is when Maurice forces Phillipe to go in a direction the horse doesn't want to travel, and when it turns out to be the wron g path he says: "Where are we? Where have you taken us, Phillipe!" Hahaha, Thanks for the review!

Linnea Chiu-san: OOH, you'll find out about where Kaiba is soon enough. He is plotting! Muahahahah! Uhem...Anyhow, thank you for the review and I'm glad you love it!

Lorna Shadows: I tried to express thier love for eachother deeply so that one can understand how easy it will be for Ryou to take his father's place and how Maurice reacts to Ryou's bold decision. Glad you like it!

TheGodFish: Hehehe, thank you! I didn't like that chapter for some reason, it seemed...choppy. But I'm so glad you liked it! Yes, that little window of Ryou's dream will be used in reference later...Thank you for reviewing! Everyone seems so excited about it, it is infectious! I can't stop typing! Oh, and I read 'Cry For Me', It was beautiful!

I'mNotBakuraISwearWhatDoYouM...: GR! U are so critical! (sniff) yes, I agree with you though! AND I DID WRITE YOU! I promises, see? I good. I very good. I obey. (gr) Loves 2 u!

Yeeeessss, you want to read the fiiiiccc, I know you do...gooooood mind slave...NOW READ IT! MUAHAHAHA! (as Marik would say)!

Now, really, please read and I hope you like it: )

* * *

It was a castle. The gigantic structure loomed ahead of him, highlighted by lightning flashing somewhere above. He followed the amazing spires with his eyes as they ascended into the clouds, but they rose high out of sight.

Maurice turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings with awe. Every angle was surrounded by a mammoth stone wall, topped with deadly looking six-sided spikes; but there appeared to be no use for them, because what could ever climb a wall like that? The forest bordered the front, back, and right side, but he could see nothing but skyline and distant mountains past the far left section. Here, a beautiful stone statue of an angel leaned out over the wall, raising her cold gray arms to the stormy heavens; she must have been several hundred times larger than himself. Her wings extended up and curved gracefully in back twards the castle. The tips of those wings became the pillars for a stone balcony which overlooked the left wall and what lie below; it seemed as though the statue was the support beam of nearly half the castle.

Thick rose bushes climbed their way across nearly every expanse of stone but the castle itself, on which only the pillars were infested with the black, thorn-like vines. Two marble collums were poised at the entrance, just in front of two equally enormous wooden doors.

The man made up his mind quickly, struggling up the path to the doors through the rain. He didn't expect to be able to open them himself, but perhaps someone was inside and would let him in when they heard him knocking. It took some time to reach the doors; the path was almost so long that riding horseback would be more practical than approaching on foot.

Shivering, Maurice hobbled up the too-steep steps, halting in front of the doors...a chill had wound it's spidery little way up his spine, resting coldly on the back of his neck, causing fine hairs there to rise.

He put a trembling hand to the golden knocker and gasped as a momentary pulse of revulsion fluttered through him. He groaned unconciously, pulling his hand back and clutching it as though it were burned. Maurice blinked. The feeling had passed.

_You crazy old man! You're just spooked, it's a lump of stone; nothing more than a roof to sleep under. _

Swallowing and not quite convinced, Maurice grabbed the knocker and pushed hard. This time, when his hand touched the wood, it slowly shivered open without so much as a squeak. He cried out in surprise and pulled his hand away but the huge panel of wood continued to swing open.

This didn't strike Maurice as being too odd. The curious, scientific portion of his mind came alive and he dashed inside, intent on the devise (if there was one) that was automaticaly opening the door. It was, of course, the only explaination for the door's behavior...ordinary doors did not open on thier own. But there was nothing but dry wood on the inside; no metal cogs, no levers attached to the little gold ring on the other side.

"Well, that can't be right!" He leaned closer, thinking maybe the darkness was hiding something from him. He frowned for several moments, and moved between the doors, outside again, inside, touched the door ring...nothing happened. "How _strange_!" His attention was diverted suddenly by a series of noises.

"...no! shut up!..."

"...what is your problem..."

"..._shhhhhh_!...you..."..._smack!_...

"...ouch!"...

"..._shut u_-"

Maurice straightened up, clutching the folds of his cloak tighter. "W-who's there!"

"..._look what you've done!_..."

"...maybe he'll go away...calm..."

Maurice tried again, walking in the direction of the little voices. "Hello? Hello?...Who's there?" This time only silence greeted him. He walked farther into the grand hall, not bothering to notice the decorations in his search for the voices. It occured to him that maybe the owners of those voices thought him dangerous, or unfriendly. Clearing his throat, he tried a more congenial approach. "Hello...I'm sorry if I'm disturbing anyone, but...I was in the forest and I lost my way; it's cold outside and I don't know how to get home, please have mercy, let me stay here one night...I promise I wouldn't be a burden..." He waited patiently for a response, hope building in his chest.

"...we should help..."

"...no! the master..."

"...If we don't help, he won't go away..."

"...and if the master finds him..."

"...oh, bite me and the master..."

"..._watch your mouth!..." _

"...fine, but remember what I said..."

There was a pause, and then a clatter of strange noises met his ears, growing louder as they approached. Maurice inadvertently backed up a little in his attempt to seem polite (_and maybe a little fear_, he thought). Out of the darkness came a large, ginger-gold cat, a crystal wine bottle, and a beautiful golden goblet laced with jewels. The cat was quite usual, and only a mild surprise, much less than the other two. With the bottle and goblet, however, Maurice's jaw dropped and he froze for a moment, doubting this reality. The bottle was moving freely on it's own, as though it were _alive_, not just leaping along on a string or mechanical wires. It was actually hopping twards him, propelled by nothing other than it's own desire to move. Something else quickly dawned on the old man. It was _bending_. Actually _bending_ and flexing with joints. Eagerness flooded him and he rushed foreward to pick up the glittering bottle, wanting to examine it as he had done with the door. Plucking it up from the floor, Maurice held it up in the air, surprised to see liquid swirling inside.

"Oof! Unhand me you pompous fool!" It bellowed at him.

"OH MY! Oh, dear, I'm sorry-" Maurice had dropped the item to the floor as it requested, wincing as it hit with a loud, resounding ring. Bouncing back up as though nothing had happened, the bottle 'humphed' and straightened up to it's full height. "Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry," he apologized again. He bent down on all fours (a process which was difficult due to his cold, age worn joints) and evaluated the crystal decanter. After a brief moment, he said, "I don't think you chiped an edge or anything, you look alright to me-"

"Back off, or I might chip _your_ edge-"

"Marik!" The goblet hissed, "be nice!" After a moment of violent glaring, said bottle growled and inched it's way twards the cat who had held it's silence through the ordeal.

_I wonder if the cat can talk?_ He thought, truly intrigued now. "Hello, there," he said to it, gently extending a hand to the soft creature. It didn't do so much as twitch, but he suddenly felt compelled to keep his distance from it all the same...there was something about that little animal that wasn't quite right, a haunting kind of intellegence behind it's lilac eyes. Quickly retreating his extended hand, Maurice settled up on his knees and adressed the goblet, who seemed to be the kindest of the three.

"Thank you for coming to my aid," he began timidly, "I have no place to stay for the night, and I don't know my way around these woods. My horse and I were attacked by wolves, and I stumbled upon this place by chance. I would be eternally grateful if you could help me...If it was burdensome for me to stay here, then please direct me to where I might go. I would understand." He gazed hopefully at what he expected were the goblet's eyes.

"The door is that way," the decanter hissed, much to the irritation of the goblet. After silencing the rebellious bottle with another glare, it spoke.

"Of course, you may stay the night here, elder. There are, however, some restrictions that you will have to abide. You must stay in the room we provide, and if you leave that room, it can only be to leave the castle. We can allow you to stay safely untill daybreak, but after that, you're on your own." The tone of the goblet was solemn and smooth, not the least bit threatening. "I hope you understand."

"Yes, yes, thank you so much for your kindness. I wish there was something I could do in return for you, but I'm afraid I have nothing of value to give."

The goblet smiled it's odd, metallic smile. "But of course, gentleman, you owe us nothing."

The strange company of four walked away into the darkness of the castle, and to Maurice it didn't seem nearly so foreboding as before. He studied what little decor he could through the dim light, picking out fantasticaly oversized stairwells, statues and balconies as they went. It was a dark and hollow place with air that seemed clotted with dust. If nothing else Maurice could deduce about this castle, he could tell it was old.

"May I ask you a question?" he adressed the goblet.

The item paused thoughtfuly, tilting it's deep, round dish. This reminded the old man of someone rubbing thier chin, and he smiled as he imagined this.

"Yes, I suppose you may...although, I may not be inclined to answer." To this Maurice smiled and nodded.

"How...did you come to be?" he asked, "Is it a spell, perhaps, or-"

"That, I'm afraid, I cannot answer you," the goblet said in it's somber voice, "but I will tell you that almost every object here has a human soul, and a mind of it's own. You'll want to keep that in mind during your stay as well," the goblet finished, casting a furtive glance over to the bottle. Maurice smiled knowingly.

Sooner than the man predicted, the group arrived at the room where he was to stay. It was still in the entrance hall he observed, despite thier having walked for quite some time. The goblet motioned for him to come inside and rest on the rug, explaining that there were no chairs or beds for him to occupy, but Maurice accepted graciously anyhow. He laid beside the warm fire and settled down to sleep, closing his eyess.

_What will Ryou think of all this? He will be most excited, perhaps I can bring him back a rose to prove it was real._ The silence settled in, and he heard the goblet leap up onto the mantle along with his other company. The cat, however, curled up opposite Maurice to take advantage of the warmth as well. Before he slipped into a bissfull rest, he noted how odd it was about that cat...it's eyes...why were they so strange?

_Ah, yes, that's it_, he thought groggily. _They never blink._

* * *

Ryou gasped and shot up in bed, hands clutching to his chest in a desperate motion. His eyes, wide and frantic, seemed glazed for a few seconds as the calm, cold reality of night sunk into his fevered skin. It took several moments for his breathing to become regular again. He closed his eyes and slumped back against the minimal headboard, sweeping a damp curtain of hair from his eyes with a shaking hand.

"That was strange," he mused. The teen had never had such a dream before. Ususally he never drempt, and when he did they were pointless little drabels about housework or keeping the store clean. He hadn't ever even imagined that sort of thing outside of a fairy tale.

Chalking it up to stress of his father leaving, Ryou climbed out of bed and stretched lazily, shivering as his muscles pulled themselves taut. Knowing he would not be able to sleep after that, the child wrapped a warm cloak around his thin frame and headed downstairs.

Grabbing a day-old cinnamon bun, he hurried outside and curled up on the porch. After years of hard, late work, he rarely had time to look at the stars and so savored the opportunity. With a bright smile he etched out the constellations and all thier heros in his mind. When he was younger, he remembered, father would take him outside on nights like this to look at the heavens.

It had been raining heavily just after his father left, but now the sky was a beautifully clear velvet blue, and Ryou liked that just fine. He leaned his head back against the house, smelling the fresh air and ignoring the bite of the winter wind. It took some time for him to pick up on the soft noise hovering in the distance. It was first dismissed as the beating of his own heart, but it grew louder and other noises began to accompany the dull, pulsating sound.

The whisper of ragged breath, the rhythmic slap of hooves against soft ground, the tremble of a feral heart...His head whipped up and he looked dead ahead at the large figure approaching him. It was Phillipe.

Ryou froze for a split second, not aware if he was truly seeing the horse or if it was a dream. Deciding quickly on the former, Ryou scrambled to his feet and ran foreward, mindless of the muddy ground beneath him.

"Phillipe! Phillie, no, where's Papa?" He opened his arms and the terrified animal flew into them, bucking his head into Ryou's shoulder. Grabbing the torn reins, Ryou pulled Phillipe against him and hugged the huge head, stroking it and whispering words of comfort. The creature tried to rear but Ryou refused him this, and clung to the reins tightly. Letting Phillipe buck would be letting him get out of controll again, and a frenzied horse was dangerous.

After many moments of sweet, endless affection, the hold of fear broke and Phillipe calmed. Ryou gently released him and looked the timid animal over for injuries. There were a few deep scratches which could be explained away by the rough undergrowth, but nothing truly alarming that he could see. Attached to his flank were still the two spokes from the wagon, both ragged as if torn. Ryou pet the soft mane of fur again and asked once more "Where's Papa, Phillie? Did you get lost?"

They did not own another horse and Ryou certainly didn't have enough money to rent a late-night carriage, which limited his options severely. He could wait untill morning and travel on foot to find his father, or he could re-saddle Phillipe right now and take him out instead.

Ryou bit his lip. He didn't want to hurt his horse by over-taxing it's body, but Maurice could be lying in the deserted woods, dying of injury or cold...Loking up at the big, noble horse, he swallowed his guilt and led him into the stables to be cleaned, watered and ridden once more.

* * *

Maurice had dozed for some time on that warm, fire lit rug, and had truly begun to sleep when a rush of sound brought him to again. The door they had come through seemingly exploded, he could hear bits of it clattering to the floor and the hinges screamed with the weight. His comfortable fire winked out as simply and completely as a candle, plunging the room into darkness.

_"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" _A powerful, vicious voice roared.

Maurice shook in terror, unaware that he had leapt to his feet and was now huddled against the wall. The hulking black shadow was illuminated by the shattered doorframe, a heavy, silvery light settling on it's shoulders. He had no preparation as the creature pounced at him, crossing the room in what seemed a single bound and smashing him to the stone wall. Maurice cried out in fear and pain. _"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, HUMAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY CASTLE!" _Maurice opened his mouth to reply, wanting to sate that anger with a reasonable answer but found that he could not speak. He willed himself to, he desperately wished to comply, but his vocal cords wouldn't so much as quiver.

With a furious roar, the Beast threw him bodily from the room. Maurice landed on the stone ground with a thud and he continued to slide, his momentum broken only by the bottom step of a spiral staircase. Groaning, he raised his head and peered with wavering vision at the deadly, stalking approach of his attacker.

"Please, please no! I only needed a place to stay for the night-" He was surprised at his own voice. It was weak and trembling, hardly understandable. The creature gave a snarl of rage and leapt at him again, landing nearly on top of him and grabbing him by the neck. It's powerful muscles rippled with sheer brute force as he lifted the old man high above his head, the violent roars never ceasing.

"_PATHETIC OLD MAN! YOU'VE COME TO STARE AT THE BEAST, HAVE YOU!" _He bellowed at his prey, revealing fangs in a show of menace. It's voice lowered to a sandy, poisonous whisper. "_Take a good look, old man, becuase I'm the last being you'll ever see."_

Maurice's screams could be heard through the corridors and countless rooms, echoing off high vaulted ceilings. The Beast's murderous laugh of triumph shook the stone to it's foundation, all but drowning out the terrified shouts of he man. It threw Maurice over his shoulder, bounding up the stairs in monstrous leaps.

Reaching the top of a dungeon tower, Beast tore open the rusty grate of a bottom-row cell and tossed the injured man inside, laughing at his cries.

"No! Please, don't do this to me! Wait! Come back!" His frail, quavering voice pleaded.

With a resonating snarl, the Beast spared the human a single glance over his shoulder. "Die," he hissed. The door slammed shut, reeling the rest of the castle into it's former thick silence, no trace of the man left behind.

* * *

Ryou and Phillipe crashed through the underbrush at the outskirts of the forest. They were quickly submerged beneath the trees, following an invisible path. The boy rode without a saddle or bit; a terrible feeling had overcome him at the stable and he couldn't delay his search for his father a moment more. They panted in unison, fear flowing as one. Phillipe did not want to go on, he was hesitating and balking at the trees but Ryou relentlessly kicked at his sides. The horse was afraid to keep going, Ryou was afraid to stop.

_Papa, where are you? _A tear trailed down his cheek unnoticed.

* * *

Ok! another chappie up! I hope you all like it, It is a little shorter than usual but I'm working on being consistant. Does everyone think the Beast's roaring episode was convincing? Or was it kind of...not realistic? Oh, and the Beast won't be called Beast the whole way through, pretty soon Ryou is told his name and refers to him as Bakura, much to his annoyance! Yay!

Please Review! It inspires me to writeso much, I appreciate each one!


	5. The Price Paid

Thank RA! My doc manager is up again! It took almost another week, sorry everyone! Anyway, here is the fifth chapter! Tell me what you think.

TheGodFish: Thank you! I strive to be realistic! And yes, this is the chapter where the real fun begins! yay!

Black-Dranzer-1119: Oh, yes, Bakura most definately tries to act like he is more superior to Ryou, but in reality (in this fic, at least) he conciders Ryou to be above him, because he's beautiful, and...well...to most, the Beast Bakura isn't. Thank you so much for the review!

Helica: No clock, but the goblet is...you'll see next chapter! Keep reading! Thank you very much for reviewing!

Fallon: OOOH! You are really close with all of the characters, but not quite! As far as I know, all possible characters with violet/purple eyes are: Yami Y., Yugi, Mai, Malik, and Marik. I could be missing a few, but that's the main ones. Now, Mai isn't in this fic, so that markes her out. Marik is the bottle, so he couldn't be the cat or the goblet. The goblet is very nice, but still very sophisticated, so he's not likely to be the fiesty Malik, and the cat was very stand-offish and kinda rude... so! You will find out for sure next chapter, but I hope the clues help! Thank you for your great reviews!

Lorna Shadows: Yay! I'm glad you're eager about the story! Yes, I tried to make the whole Bakura thing very intense. That lets everyone know what to expect from his character, and when to know that he is being unusually kind or mean because they have a base to work from. Thank you for your reviews!

And now, ladies and gentleman, on with the fiction! (perhaps as Pegasus would say)

* * *

His little body was numb from the adrenaline and the cold winter winds whipping his face. Ryou sheilded himself against the torrential onslaught; it hadn't been raining when the child began his fretful journey...but it was now. Weather conditions were steadily becoming worse the farther they trekked, and soon Ryou feared he would have to dismount and wait out the storm.

If that happened, he'd _never _find Maurice alive. The man was old and vulnerable, even the best town hunters (Seto Kaiba, his mind grumbled) wouldn't venture out in this windblown hell... Shoving these thoughts away, Ryou spurred Phillipe on, unaware of the exhausted, trembling horse's needs. He was consumed with thoughts of his father, his intuition demanding that the old man was dead. Who knew what had befallen his father? What could possible rip the carriage off of Phillipe's powerful flank, splintering the wood? How long had it taken Phillipe to find his way home, and how long had they been riding? How much time had they wasted? Could he have found Maurice faster if he hadn't tried to rest Phillipe?

Sobbing for breath, the pair crashed on, both pushing their physical limits. The woods around them were thick and feral, vines clutching at Phillipe's massive hooves while low-hanging branches raked thrrough Ryou's hair, tearing out strands of it along the way. Small, spinely bushes were tightly packed on the forest floor and had began to unbalance the animal, sending them through crazy, sprawling leaps of angry branches. It was a struggle to stay upright... Ryou sorely regretted not taking the time to saddle his horse; he could not gain purchase on the wet fur.

Suddenly, the cruely clinging plantlife ended, and they crashed into an open field. Ryou marveled for a split second, and that was all the time he had. Phillipe took a final, full-legged plunge against the now gone underbrush, it's animal mind not realising they were free, and Ryou felt his small, shivering frame collide with that of metal. His body slammed against it with a dull clang that resounded in the night air.

The tense blackness of the woods around them folded into itself, and became impenetrable inside Ryou's mind. He didn't feel it when his back hit the ground, nor did he hear the shrill cry of Phillipe as the horse went down... His world had become a mass of dark, moving figures without form, and in this half concious haze the teen gave a confused grin.

* * *

Rain.

That was the first thing that Ryou was aware of when he came to. Then it was pain, and a hell of alot of it. Ryou groaned and twisted onto his back, hissing at the micro explosions of agony that burst when he moved. Clearly, just behind him, he could hear Phillipe's agrivated whinney and stomp. A velvety muzzle with big, rain -dripping lips pulled at his hair, trying to lift him, examine him. Navigating carefully, he raised himself onto his elbows and gradually his knees, wrapping an unsteady arm around the offered nose.

He crouched facing a massive gate which was finishing a wide sweep inward from the impact of Ryou and the horse. Sense murmured in his ear that he could not have been out for more than a moment's time if the gate was still moving; no more than about thirty seconds, at most. This was hard to believe; the darkness had seemed to swim eternally beneath his eyes.

The blackish blue iron was of a beautifully wrought design. There was an old-fashioned gothic appeal to it, and to the walls extending out from it's left and right sides. Ryou gazed with some intrest the six-sided barbes lined against the wall tops, idly wondering what they were for. They looked terrible.

Giving a shudder, Ryou clasped tighter to Phillipe's long nose, and struggled to lift himself from the vulnerable pose he now held. This place, wherever he was, gave him the creeps. He stood beside Phillipe and decided easily not to mount... They were both too tired for that.

Automatically he turned to look at the rest of the area they had litterally stumbled into. His breath caught.

In front of him, wind whistling through it's spires, was a terrible Citadel. It seemed as though it had the scarred face of war, deep battle wounds engraved inside it's blank, gray stone. It went without ornamentation of any kind on large expanses of stone; some of the tiny fractions were adorned with gargoyle-like figures, however. It must have been beautiful at one time...but not now. A terrifyingly massive statue of a dragon adorned the far left section of wall. It's wings flared back and out, creeping up to a stone balcony and forming it's support pillars. The balcony surrounded the entire castle, _hundreds _of feet above the ground. The spires reached into the heavens, dissapearing easily into clouds. An arch curved ominously above the main double-doors ahead of him, their details not seen fron this great of a distance. The one feature captivating Ryou at the moment, despite the other uniqe attributes, was the french stained windows. They were haunting, and seemed ever changing; once Ryou's eyes decided on a pattern, another one seemed to materialize out of the chaos. It was...undescribable.

It seemed to becon to him, call him, even, and Ryou couldn't help but come forth. He stared at the structure with a kind of delicious numb horror. There was something off about it, something quite altogether wrong. Ryou wanted to run. He found with mounting distress that he couldn't run, and if he would, it would be twards the forset-sheltered castle.

A rough pulling sensation jolting through his arm made him snap out of the semi-trance he had slipped into, and he looked to the source. Phillipe was pulling roughly at his hand, attempting to free his muzzle from the teen who had forgotten his tight grasp.

"Oh, Phillipe, I'm sorry!" Ryou whispered over the gales of wind. For some reason he needed to whisper...although there was no one here to listen, was there? He shuddered. "We're all alone...in the middle of _nowhere_..." Ryou groaned. Phillipe huffed along in agreement, casting a furtive glance behind himself at gate.

Ryou didn't notice the double doors easing open, even when the they had slid more than halfway, and in response the wood frowned heavily. Who was this odd creature to trespass and then deny to enter the Master's castle? Irritation swept in a wild wave over the castle and the doors howled at Ryou in reprimand. The hinges joined soon, as did the wind, wailing and hissing at the intruder to enter when beckoned to.

Squealing in fright, the horse and human looked away from eachother and up at the castle, watching as the doors complteted their motions. The noise had seemed to be rusty hinges creaking and the wind whistling throught the doors. He did not catch the harsh underbreath of words, which was probably fortunate.

The two stood frozen, both by the cold and by fear for a moment. Ryou 's lungs seemed not to work and he simply gaped for a few seconds... Phillipe, however, found his breath quickly and began to whine in panic.

Finding himself, the boy comforted his animal. "Shhh, quiet, Phillipe! Quit that! Maybe there's someone there who can help us! Maybe-" he wet his lips-" Maybe Papa found this place, too!" The pair moved onward, Ryou expecting at any moment to see someone (the person who had opened the doors, of course) to pop thier head around the corner and greet them.

By the time they reached the doors, however, no one had... and the doors had begun to close. Gasping, Ryou took in with surprise the speed which the door were closing and called hurriedly up, "No! Wait! Please, I'm almost there! I need your help, please!" The doors seemed to slow, hesitate, and then continue more slowly.

Ryou left off trying to persuade Phillipe to come with him and bounded up the steps, trying to save time. He made it faster than his father had just shortly before, and when he reched the great entrance landing he said, "Thank you," quite conversationally. His fear was momentarily forgotten.

Shuffling up to the steps and scooting inside just before they closed, Ryou stepped into the marble-tiled hall and breathed a sigh of releif at having made it. "Thank you so much for letting me inside, my horse and I " - _SLAM _- "ooh!" Ryou squeaked and whirled around, aware of the doors having slammed shut. "I-I was trying to find...m-my father..." His voice faded away with the sudden sensation that he was talking to no one at all. There was only one source of dim light, burning somewhere to his left that illuminated the space around him. He spun around, taken by the vastness of it all. No one was there.

Swallowing, he tried again. "Hello? He...hello?" Silence greeted him. On a whim, he set off to search for the light source, thinking that he'd never find anything here without a light.

Perhaps the doors had been pushed open by a gale of wind? And...and they were partially open anyway, becasue Maurice had been here, and was asleep somewhere deep in the fortress! Yes! That made sense.

_What about the door swinging shut, hm? Did the _wind_ hear you and decide to let you in?_

Ryou chose to ignore the chiding little voice in his head and stick to the explaination he had come up with. Walking with purpose to the gleaming light nearby, he found it to be radiating from a tiny candle stuffed onto a high shelf, almost burnt out. It was immensely high, and surrounded with books of various sizes; none of which were ones he recognized. Standing up on his toes, Ryou snatched the candle holder with one carefully crooked slender finger, catcging the small ring. A fleeting moment of triumph passed before he actually pulled the thing from it's place. The holder was made of crystal lead, and much heavier than he anticipated.

With a bright "oy!" he dropped the thing to the ground, hearing it putter out with a light _poof_.

Ryou groaned unhappily as he was plunged into darkness once more. He gulped softly, resigning to his misfortune. "Hello?" he called miserably. Tears were gathering unbidden at the corners of his eyes; it had been a long night.

He heard a soft noise not so far away and his white mane of lock flew up as he raised his head, eyes groping the darkness. "Hello?"

Another light. He ran at it, it was a ways away and seemed to be fading... "Who's there? Please, Hold on! I need your help, my father-" As he had neared this light source, it snuffed out and left him in the darkness. Before he could regester the fear that was now solidly coursing through his veins, Ryou saw yet another candle strike flame a good ways above him, illuminating a stain case and a small room not far away. The door of this room was torn from it's hinges and lying like a dead animal in the foyer, splintered. He supressed a shiver.

Looking away from the door, he dashed up the stairs without a second thought twards the light. It ascended up past the ceiling (the very _high_ ceiling, he reminded his stomache) and into what Ryou supposed was one of the spire towers.

Again, as neared this light, it snuffed, and another made itself apparent. Ryou's exhausted mind concluded that it must be some kind of magic, leading him...where, exactly? To help...?

The silly game went on for far too long than Ryou liked and soon he was not able to continue, his body weak and already tired. Still, the teen climbed on. Looking above before this light could snuff, he saw stairs spilling endlessly above him, twist after twist, curl after curl.

* * *

"_Huff...huff...huff..."_ Maurice heard the panting groan before Ryou met the door to the holding cell. He scuttled away from the entrance as far as he could in the little underground pit, splaying himself onto the stones and pretending to be asleep. Or dead.

The door gave a tentative creak inwards, and a soft, delicat voice whispered "Hello? Is...is anyone in here?" Maurice froze. Was it? Could it really be? "What is this place? Oh, how _awful_," the boy exclaimed, examining the cells. Some were littered with the remains of long dead men, bodies now reduced to skeletons.

Shuffling up to his knees Maurice peeked out through the bars and he almost screamed at the sight. His little Ryou, clutching pale hands to his delicat chest in a show of revulsion to the remains. He could not speak, his throught was stuck, it was too impossible!

Ryou heard the soft wheeze and whirled, eyes seaching. He opened his mouth to whimper his age old question, hello, but instead his wandering brown orbs caught sight of his beloved father, chained into a tiny cell, lips blue with the cold.

Ryou burst into frantic tears. "_Papa! Papa, tell me what happened? I thought you were dead! Who did this to you, Papa!"_ He flung himself down onto the floor, reaching through the bars to cradle his beloved. They sobbed into eachother's arms, Maurice petting his son's white hair while the latter buried his face agains the old, comforting shoulder. Ryou tried to ask why he was all locked up but Maurice stifled this and took his beloved child's face into both hands, gazing sincerely into them. Confusion bombarded them, and the old man felt his throat clutch.

"R-ryou, child, you have to get away from this cursed place! There's a monster-"

"A _what_!"

"Monster! A _beast_! He's evil, he locked me in here and he'll do the same to you if you don't run-!"

"I'm not leaving you here! I have to get you out-"

"NO! Just save yourself, child! Ryou, RYOU! GO!" He could hear the rumbling beneath the stones, the roar of fury which drowned out all else. One minute he was telling his son to go and the next his voice was smothered by the vicious howel approaching quickly. The stairs vibrated with the heavy body racing up them, claws clanging on the metal. He screamed at Ryou to run. There was no where to run, he knew that. His mouth formed the words but his son could not hear him... and then it was too late.

He saw the door fly open and the candles whiff away like they never existed, not even smoke left in their wake. The door had vanished as well after one earsplitting crash against the stone wall. Darkness flooded them, and a sudden silence became deafening.

The only noise to be heard was Ryou's whimpered little breaths which the Beast, he knew, wouldn't mind. The noises were signs of fear, after all. Even his own breathing was silenced for a moment... the stillness hovered for a fragmented second, hovering, hovering in the air by a silk thread... and snapped. The hateful rumble that was the beast's voice hummed in the air and Ryou uttered a small scream, jerking his father closer. He was sobbing incoherent speech, no doubt questioning who was that? _Where_ was that?

Maurice somehow found his voice through it all, and quickly came to Ryou's aid.

"Please, let my son be," he begged in his quavering voice, "the boy's done nothing wrong. He's my son, he came to save me, he wasn't trespassing! W-we love eachother very deeply. Please, let him go, I beg of you!"

There was a deep grumble of response, and at last the Beast spoke. "_Why should I let him go, hm? You're an old man, you'll die soon here. I have no intention of feeding you. Letting him go would be suicide_." The creature snorted, a sound that made Maurice shudder. "_He would run back to the towns people, and my castle would fall under seige by next 'eve. You, old man, are worthless...your son, however..." _There was a hissed growl which Maurice did not want to try to translate.

Ryou's soft voice spoke up and shocked him, despite the boy being in his arms, it had felt as though the teen were momentarily out of the room. Bold defiance was in his voice. "If Papa is so worthless, why not let him go and take me instead?" The brazen words were directed at the Beast, and Maurice cringed sharply upon hearing them. He would provoke it's anger with talk like that. "Ryou, _no_," he warned softly. The child pushed away and only gained momentum at his father's warning.

"Take ME instead!" Ryou stood shakily, a firm light in his brown eyes, glaring determinedly at where he approximated the beast was. "Why pray on a helpless old man? As you said, he is useless to you. He would only make me want to escape if he were here, too...so l-let me take his place." Maurice howled with sadness, begging his son not to do this awful thing. He was near the end of his days, there was no need for Ryou to suffer this way! Ryou still refused, and he could hear the boy dissolving into tears, as he was as well. They sobbed again into eachother's arms, and the Beast stood in silence, hidden by the shadows.

"_Stop your pathetic sniveling, both of you. Brat- why would you do this? You know I will kill you in time, why sacrifice yourself for that old fool-"_

"Because I love him!" Ryou raged, glaring heatedly at the dark lumbering form in the doorway. "I would do anything for the ones I love. He's more than an old man to me! He's my father. I don't care waht anyone else thinks!"

Stunned silence followed. The beast seemed caught off gaurd... but the moment passed. With a roar that made Ryou scream blindly in panic, the creature threw Ryou across the room and tore open the gate to the cell. Maurice hollered his sons name, fearful for the boy, and heard nothing in return. His world spun in a violent twist of darkness and he found himself flung over the shoulder once more, and hauled away. Somewhere down the stairs he heard Ryou sob "Papa!", and that was it. He was gone from his beloved baby boy...forever...

* * *

Ryou stirred in the mound of rotting, damp hay in the corner. The musky scent of it hit him thickly and he resisted the powerful urge to retch. There was a sizeable lump on the back of his head, and his vision was blurry for several moments...so much so that he closed his eyes again and clutched his skull in anticipation of it passing.

When he could handle it, he opened his eyes. There was a little pool of light in front of him, coming from one of those tiny candles which had lighted his path. _It was a trap,_ he thought feebly. The light hit his face, illuminated it to the revelation of the Beast who was hovering in the doorway. Ryou could feel his presence.

Ryou gulped and sat up, still clutching his pounding head with one hand. He could feel it's eyes on him, boring into his body; he shivered.

Unnerved by the shadow and emboldened by his half-right state of mind, Ryou whispered soflty, "Come out of the shadows, why wont you let me see you?"

Nothing moved. Ryou squinted, hoping for a better view... he knew his fears would be quelled when he saw the beast. You can only fear what you are unfamiliar with, right? _Right._ Ryou's mind confermed shakily. _Wrong_, something else whispered. _You may even fear it more, once you know what it's capable of...what you don't know can't hurt you..._

Suddenly the deep voice of his captor grated through the room, which shook Ryou to fully awake very fast. "_Pathetic whelp. That's all any of you want, to stare, isn't it? Right! To hiss and boo at the FREAK!" _The voice stopped, and when it resumed the tone was calmer, more collected...more infuriated than ever. _"When you awake at night, shaking and whimpering with my image swiming behind your eyes, remember...You brought this nightmare upon yourself..."_

His heavy stide thumped upon the stone floor, and he lumbered into the circle of light. Ryou watched, captivated as light spilled onto the massive creature, illuminating it.

Ryou's mind crashed sharply, spinning downwards in a spiral of red eyes, glistening teeth and horns. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth to scream but the sound wouldn't come. It was not the being...not the actual _being_ which tore his mind beyond the capacity to understand. It was the blood.

* * *

Did you like it? Tell me! Next chapter: It is revealed who the servants are, Ryou gets his first taste of the monster that is Bakura, and Maurice's fate is disclosed! R&R! 


	6. Silken Dishrags and Tears

Nekosune: Yes I missed you there for a while, but I am glad you are back, and that you like it so much! Please keep reading and OOOH, Pocky! Munch. Thank you!

PriestessSuru00: You will know about the whole blood thing next chapter! Keep reading, thanks for the review and glad you liked it!

Black-Dranzer-1119: YAY! I'm soooo glad you like it! Thak you for all of your wondeeful reviews!

koolmint26: Hahahah, glad you like it, and I hope it does get very exciting! ou will find out about all the little peeps and stuff next chap! Keep reading!

Snowbluerat: Thank you, keep reading!

TheGodFish: Gushes-You are one of my fave reviewers ever. I love that you love my story! Sorry for the long update, but my dad runs his buisness from the comp and it can be a real beotch to get on it sometimes! Someone said that my details were too much! sniff- am glad that you don't think so. Yes, the terror will fade, and them who knows what might happen? Hehehehe Keep reading! THANK YOU!

banaorama: Wondeeful review! Thank you so much, and all your fantastic q's will be a'd very soon! Except for the ending, that will be for a little while off. I'm so glad you like it, It is people like you that inspires me to write! Thank you again and please keep reading!

Fallon: OOH, a dress is a great idea! I just might do that... with credit to you, of course, for the idea. I love your reviews so much! Thank you for your reading and please keep on! Yikes, this chap took me a millionkabillion years to finish, but it's here. Yep. Hope you like it!

Bakura: Sniff...Wuv you...Sniff...

Lorna Shadows Thank you so much! Hope you like the next chap and please review!

I know this took me forever, but hopfully you wont ever have to wait that long again! Pokes at dying computer--right. Read on!

Oh, and I don't own stuff!

* * *

Ryou forced his mind to work, forced his mouth to close, forced the scream back down his throat. He breathed deeply, calming himself but keeping his eyes tightly shut. _Come on, Ryou, pull yourself together. Things look a lot scarier when you're already afraid of them, just get a grip and calm down. If it was going to kill you, it would have done it while you were out cold... _

The child slowly opened his eyes again, preparing himself for the brilliant shock of red blood. Keeping them trained firmly ahead at the monster's feet, Ryou took in the sight more slowly this time.

The whole being had to be at least seven feet tall, maybe more. It's ballance on the balls of it's feet caused a reptilian look (despite the lack of scales), and three deadly clawed toes extended from the front of each foot while a glittering dew-claw adorned it's heels. The fur was a cold, steely gray hue which Ryou surmised was not caused by age, just natural coloring, because of the lack of any age-faded brown or red. Lifting his eyes slightly, Ryou saw the ragged hems of the Beast's black, silky pants. They were old and severely worn...Ryou felt an odd moment of strong sympathy.

_How terrible to wear clothing that's tattered and shredded because of your body size...Not even the largest man's clothing could fit this creature. And it isn't as though he could sew his own, _Ryou thought sadly, remembering earlier about the Beast's huge claws. _It isn't as though he could do much of anything with hands like those..._

The teen's eyes slid smoothly up the creatures form, suddenly more confident. Perhaps It had only been acting so terrible because it was scared of the boy and his father; he couldn't be so bad, right? After all, he didn't kill eigther of them when there were many chances.

It had long and powerful arms and legs, the muscles standing out against it's glimmering silver fur. The body was of a strange build; strong and bulky, but sleek and elegant in it's own right.

_Like a jungle cat, _Ryou mused humorlessly.

The Beast was very broad shouldered with a bolder-like barrel chest, barely covered by a yellowing remnant of silken shirt. The only stains visible on any of the creature's attire was the blood which came as a surprise to the boy. Sense seemed to dictate that an animal would be filthy, but here this one stood quite clean.

Ryou closed his eyes for a moment, preparing to gaze upon his captor's face which had caused so much horror just a minute before. He couldn't remember much, just the fierce glint of red flashing eyes, bared fangs and horns. It had been much too terrible to let his gaze linger, and he didn't know if it would be any easier to bear this time. Unconciously Ryou had begun to tremble in his pile of mouldering hay at the prospect of living with this awful, ugly, vile creature which had torn his only family away.

Tears rose unbidden to his eyes as the realization began to leak in.

_I really, truly _must _live with this...this...demon! I am forced to slave beneath the being that took my father, the only one who loves me, and threw the old man back at the world without anyone to care for him. He..._

Ryou opened his eyes into the palms of his hands, pain vaulting through him.

_He didn't even let me say good-bye...I'll never see him again and I couldn't even say good-bye..._

(Beast's point of view)

I watched the tiny child in front of me, his eyes scanning me as though I were a dangerous animal to be strictly avoided. His fear was evident, and I loved it.

Pathetic, annoying mortal boy, sickeningly pampered and rich. The old man I had pitied somewhat for his obvious disability...More than likely that human's story had been valid. Who would intentionaly fall into the lair of this disgusting monster? It had no doubt been a mistake.

But this self-righteous, foolishly couragious spoiled whelp deserved his fate. How _dare_ he challenge my right to keep his father hostage? How dare he question my authority at all, for that matter. I am the Beast! No one challenges me! I could tear him limb from limb, and he sits here before me, crying like a lost child full of pain. He does not consider that his antics annoy me. He does not concider that he should _beg_ me to spare his life.

No, he just sits there, blubbering because he lost a life full of glamour and wealth. No doubt he took his father's place to look brave, to play the hero.

I have spent but a moment in this child's company, and already I hate him.

(Neutral point of view)

Ryou continued sobbing with the pain and injustice of it all, missing his father who had been the anchor of stability in his life for so long. He glared up at the Beast without fear, heedless of the monster's appearance through his watery eyes.

"You...you didn't even let me say good-bye," the child whispered.

"_Speak up, wench_," Bakura hissed venemously, drawing his body up to it's full height.

"You didn't e-even let me s-s-say good-bye! He's g-gone forever and...and I didn't even...I..." Ryou's voice weakened as he went on. Speaking of his loss seemed to confirm it, make it a solid fact that could not be run from. A fresh spout of tears took the place of words, and they were left in a cold silence punctuated only by the child's sobs.

Ryou did not see the taken aback expression on the Beast's face. Some of the cold glint had faded, and what was left was perhaps not so frightening at all. The ruby red eyes had twisted themselves into a hidden look of guilt and suprise, unnoticed even by Bakura himself...

The silence stretched while he listened to his prisoner cry. Helpless, distrought little noises that worked on Bakura's heart and not his nerves.

_Don't you remember, fool? What it was like_- Bakura tried to silence his mind there, but it pressed on unscathed -_to be locked away for the first time in this place? Your eternal prison of cold, mocking walls? Do you think it is any easier for this infant-like human? You had even the smallest comfort; the walls kept out the prying eyes of others who might laugh and jeer at your freakish appearance. You, Bakura, are safe here. But these same walls which you hide behind now imprison this little being with the sum of _nightmares_, and there is no comfort for him. _

The ice in Bakura's heart fractured. Just the tiniest bit, like a delicate new shoot of grass breaking the snow after a long, bitter winter.

His eye twitched in rough annoyance at himself. Perhaps it had been to long since he lived with humanity, and he could no longer name the emotions he now felt, but they were there none the less. He was at a complete loss of what to do. No one had evoked his compassion in a long, long time.

Confused and doubtlessly guilty, Bakura's anger flared violently to life with an audible snarl. Emotions were for the weak, and he was not weak.

The Beast blocked out Ryou's heart-broken wails and turned twards the door to leave despite his better judgement...He really ought to let the boy out of this rotting tower...

Swirling in a flutter of black and red cape, Bakura turned to the door frame to see a long, oddly curved shadow falling across it, and swiftly advanced to meet it. A beautifuly crafted golden goblet appeared before the massive Beast, bowing slightly at the stem.

"Master Bakura," It addressed.

"_Atemu_," Bakura inclined his head at the bow. A pause followed in which Atemu shifted uneasily, hearing the child's sobs as well and debating over what to say. He must be careful; if he were to anger the Master then the child would no doubt be punished more than himself...but if he decided not to speak up, then it was likely that the boy would stay in the tower, no food, no water...

Making an agrivated noise, Bakura moved to sweep past the goblet and thunder down the stairs. Panicking, Atemu took his last chance and blurted the first thing which came to mind: "He's crying." The statement had it's desired effect, the clanging throb of Bakura's footsteps halted as he stopped in the stairwell.

Red, feral eyes glared in response.

Atemu cleared his throat and forced himself to continue despite the lack of a plan. "Yes, uhem...The boy is crying, and...is hurt quite badly, by the look of it...a-and I thought, perhaps, it would be a good idea if we were to...accomodate him...since...since he will be with us for some time," he said, examining the floor stones.

Bakura turned around fully, trying to controll his temper and failing miserably. "_Oh? And where do you suppose he would stay, hm? The west wing?_"

Atemu ignored his sarcasm and pressed on. "Master, there are more than enough empty rooms to house the child, and I'm sure we could find one especially far away from the West Wing."

The Beast's nostrils flared. "_NO. he will stay locked in the tower._"

"You _can't _mean that! He'll _die_ up here! The child came to save his old, dying father, he's done nothing wrong yet you've imprisoned him. The _least_ you could do, Bakura, is give him a proper room!" Atemu had abandoned his servant-like manners and relied on his influence as Bakura's friend. If that didn't work, nothing else would.

"_I. said. NOOO!" _With a chilling roar, Bakura leaped back up the stairs and tore a ring of skeleton keys from the folds of his cloak. He snatched the dungeon door and slammed it with enough force to make Ryou scream in terror at the booming sound.

Shouting above the chaos of Bakura's roars, Ryou's sobbing and the pounding of Bakura's footsteps, Atemu tried desperately to convince Bakura to let the boy out. It was, after all, a very rare occurance that anyone happened by the castle. Just because Bakura had lost all sense of human kindness did not mean that everyone else had, and he wasn't about to let the poor little thing suffer the same fate as the others. But his Master resisted more firmly still, bellowing that the boy had in fact trespassed and would pay with his life.

Watching the Beast's back as he retreated down the stairs once more, he hurled the last thing he could think of to say. "You really have become a _monster,_ haven't you?"

The creature froze.

* * *

Ryou pillowed his head in his arms, deep sobs still shaking his body, even though there were no more tears left to cry. He was exhausted and more than a little hungry. The boy had been riding in the forest for untold hours and then suffered through the ordeal with his captor; it seemed reasonable that he felt these physical sensations...but Ryou's mind refused to accept them.

_How can I be hungry when my Papa is out there, hurt and lost?_

Sniffing unhappily, the little teen raised his head and rubbed at damp eyes when the previously locked door opened. The candles has long since gone out, and he couldn't see who his visitor was, but he had a pretty good idea what to expect...

And he was right.

"_On your feet, now,"_ a sharp voice commanded. Somewhere in the distance a reproving cough was heard. The Beast growled in response, but spoke again in a slightly softer tone. "_I have decided that it is not neccesary for you to stay in the tower," _a tiny candle illuninated the darkness, "_and I will show you to your room." _

Ryou sat still, hardly able to comprehend the offer. Seconds passed in which Ryou gaped up at where he knew the Beast to be, surprised and trepedatious at the same time. The pause irritated Bakura. He had long since forgotten how to read human emotions, and hence was taking in the boy's expresion confusedly. Confusion formed anger, and the creature snapped gruffly at his captive.

"_Well, do you want to stay in the tower, whelp!"_

"N-no I-"

"_Then move!"_

Ryou yelped and scrambled to comply with shaking fervor. The Beast did not seem like the kind of person who should be crossed. Once risen, he discovered that his feet were unhelpfully dozing, and despite his best attempts to rouse them his footing remained unsteady and pained. As he moved twards the door and it's unsavory occupant little pins and needles began to make themselves known, crawling up his leg veins like so many red ants. Biting back a cry, Ryou approached the Beast.

It snorted in contempt at him and the little teen flinched fearfully, but it made no other threatening gesture. After an awkward moment of stillness (neigther of them was quite sure of what to do), Bakura swept out the door in what Ryou would later recognize as 'classic Bakura style'. Two or three tinkling little candles followed their progress down the ever lasting stone staircase. They were very much like the ones Ryou had seen when he had first come to the castle, but it occured to him that there was a difference... it was just very difficult to put his finger on.

He became acutely aware at the same instant that there was a loud, clambering noise up ahead of the Beast, as though he were being lead by someting as well. Leaning with subtle grace Ryou attempted to see past said being, but his motion was caught by a bright, angry red Bakura eye cocked at him through the dim half-light of the candle flames.

Ryou flicked his eyes away from the solitary cri mson one that questioned him, and decided to focus on something less...obstructive. Turning his attention to the decidedly boring pattern of stone-and-mortar, Ryou gazed placidly at the walls. Bakura grunted in satisfaction.

* * *

Ryou decided a great many things had changed since the (minutes? hour? _hours_, maybe?) time he had first entered the deeply shadowed fortress. The mystical difference in the candles had become utterly obvious to him during the long walk down the stairs (of which they were just now completing), and he would have smacked his forehead under different circumstances. Before, the candles had dissapeared when he came within any speakable distance of them, but these didn't do that, and he was able to get a good look.

The tiny things never dripped wax or lessened in height. Each buttery yellow flame blazed quietly and motionless, not even the strange ever-present breeze seemed to stir them. Ryou's only clue that they weren't just enchanted lanterns disguised as candles were the curling black wicks, each one slowly devoured by the hungery little flames.

The stones of the castle walls and floor gleamed with a polished authority which was very unlike the dusty, unkempt look he had been greeted with. Many more items of furnature appeared, as well. Fine, oak chairs covered with dainty needlepoint cushions, handsome drinking tables and slender crystal flutes of would-be champagne, all darkened by the absence of light. Ryou's mystery candles only lit the small areas in their immediate path but no more.

He suspected that this was at the command of the Beast; but there wasn't any reason for the exclusive privacy! The teen's question remained unsolved, along with all the others threatening to fracture his thin calm.

The one real shock was when his cold, bare little feet met the warmth of a true persian rug. Ryou's bright cry of delight startled the candles, Atemu the Goblet and even Bakura himself. The large composed creature hadn't expected such a musical sound of pleasure from his depressed little captive. Whirling in his own impressive manner, Bakura stared at the boy as he in turn stared at the enormous rug, pleasure rimming his grief stricken eyes.

Shock registered in Bakura's eyes as well and he glared furiously at the remarkable appearance of the rug.

_"Abstulo!" _he hissed silently, anger flaring when the naughty carpet refused his order. It remained for the boy's pleasure, shuddering happily under the soft 'aaah' which the child emit. More furious still, Bakura admonished his servant again, more firmly. "_Abstergo confuto,_" and again there was no result. Only an obstinate little buck at Bakura's heels signaling that the persian would not admit defeat with a simple curse.

Ryou remained oblivious to this little exchange and went on exploring the wild, rich patterns found below his feet. Bakura was about to snap at the boy once more when a simple motion caught his eye. Ryou was tugging gently at the fringes of hair surrounding his face in excitement, and in the candle-light the soft, white locks gleamed. For a brief second, the Beast was overcome with Ryou's expression of childlike inncocence, and with the brilliant golden shade his hair had become. _How did I not see that before? Even through the grime it shimmers like silk, and just as soft, I'll bet..._

The red eyes floundered in the soul that owned them. _What?_ He shook himself and double-marched powerfully across the expansive round greeting hall. He didn't have a direction in mind, destination being anywhere the human was not. He didn't have time for this. He would find Pegasus and let him deal with the runt (_good old trusty Pegs, _Bakura's mind hissed accusingly, _you might as well send the boy off with a convicted rapist)_. On second thought, why not send Atemu along for the ride as well? Yes...He'd do that.

Sending a furious, snarling bark at the boy to get him moving, Bakura forced morbid thoughts into the crevases of his brain where Ryou's light had penetrated. _Hair like silk...I might as well cut it off and weave a dish-rag out of it, for all he's worth._ Satisfied with this unhappy alternative, he barked at Ryou again to hurry up even though the child was clearly incapable of matching his stride.

It took a moment for him to catch up. By the time he was within fifteen or so feet of Bakura he stopped, not wishing to be confronted face to face. A shy little hair-tug caught Bakura's sight but he shook of the effects without concidering them.He told Ryou that his new caretakers would show him to his room. At the word "caretakers," the little one blanched visibly and fought to keep tears at bay...it reminded him of the role that would no longer be filled in his beloved Papa's life.

_"Wait here,"_ was the 'goodbye' which the gravel hard voice hissed, and then the candles and the Beast were gone.

Ryou waited.

No one came.

He opened his mouth to call out to the darkness, but found his throat stuck and his eyes throbbing with unshed tears. Giving way with an undignified yelp of emotional pain, Ryou collapsed onto the persian rug and sobbed. He cried for all that was lost, and all that was left now, what he was to become and the new fate he bore, but most of all he cried for his daddy.

Somewhere in the reflective depths that rest in every being's soul he thought of the tears that he had shed earlier in the dungeon and he knew now that they were nothing like this. Those had been tears of shock, and he would never, ever confuse the two again.

Now, deep gutteral bawls of pain ripped the air from his lungs, and the muscles of his face stiffened into that mask of agony only possible for humans to bear. There was nothing sweet or pretty about his sobs. Only an ugly, wailing heat that seemed to infect the castle, bringing it to a state of reality that Ryou couldn't handle. He buried his face in his hands and continued to break.

He was unaware of the little flutter of candles which had gathered around him, spreading their tiny, comforting heats across his cold back, or that the rug had bunched comfortably beneath him like a cradle.

And then an interesting thing happened. Somone close by had begun to wail in the most rediculous, comical manner. Blearily, Ryou looked up, wet eyes not accepting what he saw. A pair of white dinner gloves hovered in mid-air before him above an impossibly large puddle of tears.

The gloves were clutching eachother, and were very full of who's ever hands the gloves belonged to, even though Ryou couldn't see a body.

"Wh-what are y-y-you?" Ryou sobbed, forgetting his own sadness for a moment. He had meant to say "what are you doing", and "what are you" _did_ seem a trifle rude, but the surprise had caught his tongue.

The glove thing's obnoxious crying stopped instantly. It was replaced with a rediculously cheerful british voice, which spouted excitedly, "Why, I'm a Pegasus, of course!"

* * *

I feel like that was crap. Was it crap? (everyone nods) damn! Haha, no seriously it sucked but it will get better! Keep reading and please review! 


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